Dear Granddaughter,

Here it is the night of July 4th, 2019, and outside my windows there are fireworks and explosions of my neighbors celebrating Independence Day.

Unlike most years, I’m alone this 4th of July.

Usually we have a gathering and all the family are here. There is food and fireworks and fun — the stuff of family.

But the stuff of family also creates lonely days like this, too.

I’m here alone because your Gram has gone out to Atlanta to be there for your birth. It has been 18 long months since she has seen your parents and your brothers.

That’s too long to be separated. Being here alone knowing that Gram is catching up, playing her roles as mother and grandmother, is enough for me to endure the solitude. You are worth it.

It’s not good to be alone. The Lord never intends us ever to be alone and that’s one reason why he put us in families.

It might seem weird for a man to write a letter to a yet-to-be-born granddaughter. But it’s not weird to me. I’ve written letters to my children – including to your father – every year on or near their birthdays. I just haven’t given the letters to them. I will someday.

But this one I’m putting out there now. I can’t help myself.

You must be someone special because you’re coming to a great family.

I don’t even know your name yet. I’m not even sure your parents know your name.

But I can tell you that you are very much anticipated.

Everyone is talking about you. You don’t know it yet but you’re making history. You are our fifth grandchild but our very first granddaughter. That makes you the first woman of a new generation in the family.

That is significant because the women who came before you in the family have been tremendous individuals. Some you will get to know in this life because they will share this space and some time with you here. But so many others you will only hear about.

I don’t know if it is so but in my mind’s eye they are with you now, in your final hours before you come to this world.

I know that not because I know you but because I know them. I know them to be women of great strength, power, authority, and deep, deep love.

Where else would they be right now than with you, the first woman of a new generation?

There are many things I want to tell you, Granddaughter. There are many things I want you to know.

But first and foremost, as your Grandpa, I would echo what your grandmothers are whispering into your ears right now: I love you.

We love you. Your parents and your brothers love you. And that is all that matters.

You see, when I walk through the cemeteries looking upon those names and dates – some from those very grandmothers and grandfathers you are with right now as I write this – I do not see teachers and farmers and construction workers and doctors and scholars.

I see only mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters and aunts, uncles and cousins. I see only family.

I see only the fruits of love.

The rest of that stuff is not really important. Granted, it might be interesting, in many respects, to learn the details of their earthly journey. In time I hope you come to gain an appreciation for those things and, like me and many others, take up the work of learning and honoring their history.

It is a worthwhile endeavor and one that will go far to helping you understand your identity, Granddaughter.

But Granddaughter, as you begin your life I hope your eyes reach far out to the horizon and long into the eternities. There is much more to this life than this life.

The world explains this life as ashes to ashes, dust to dust. I would explain it differently.

You are first a spirit child of God. You have been held in reserve to come forth at this time. You must therefore be someone very special.

Your presence here is merely a stopping point on a longer journey.

This is why love is your legacy – and my legacy – and the legacy of all who came before. It’s not who we are here, or what we accumulate, or what name we gain for ourselves here.

Love rises above the things of this world.

Of love you were created and of love you will be remembered.

In just a matter of days, maybe even hours, Little One, you will come into this world naked and probably crying.

In time, like all who have gone before us, you will likely leave this world the very same way.

It is what we all have in common, this thing called love.

You will spend your life trying to understand love, trying to define it, trying to convey it.

Some will accept it from you, and some won’t know how to accept it from you.

Love, you see, isn’t easy and it is not automatic in this world.

And yet, we are, in our physical state, the result of love.

Right now I would tell you that your Mom and your Dad are feeling a lot of anxiety.

I’m very proud of them.

Right on the heels of your birth they will celebrate their 7th wedding anniversary. Not many thought they would make it that far – me included, I was one of the doubters.

But here they are, welcoming you, their third child and their first little girl. Who would have known 7 years ago they would have you and your brothers?

That’s a miracle. That’s what love does. It produces miracles.

Mommy and Daddy are anxious right now because they have never had a daughter before. They want to do it well. I believe that with all my heart. I see them now, and how they work with your brothers, and I’m a believer in them. I’m proud of them.

You will not know or understand the anxiety they feel right now for many, many years. Probably not until you walk in those shoes yourself.

Anxiety is really just another expression of love, by the way. It’s a good thing.

They are worried about paying the bills. They are worried about giving you a name. They are worried about their other children, those fine grandsons of ours.

Your Mom and Dad are worried about how to dress you, how to feed you, how to make you feel safe and warm and loved. They are thinking of everything from teaching you to speak to giving you an education. They are thinking about how you are going to change the world.

No, not the big world outside — they will leave that to you.

They are worried about how you are going to change their world and believe me, Granddaughter, you have changed their world already.

You have taken them from four to five and you have already been the topic of many deep-in-the-night conversations between your Mom and Dad because you change everything.

You are their little girl and that’s new.

All that is love, Granddaughter.

Then there’s the rest of us. Your cousins, your aunts, your grandparents on every side…good grief, we’re a handful.

And we’re going to be all over you.

That’s love, too, by the way. It might be the kind that drives you crazy, but it is love nonetheless.

So too will your brothers drive you nuts and I guarantee you there is nothing but love behind them.

As of this writing they are ages 3 and 6. We have only known love from them. They are and will be outstanding men – because of love.

Your gender is important, Granddaughter.

It is unchangeable. That was written upon your soul long before you were etched as a reality in the hearts of your parents.

The world is going to try to convince you otherwise on this point. They will try to confuse you.

Out of an abundance of love I urge you to resist such foolish notions.

Your gender has a purpose. It is woven in your spirit, your intelligence, in all that you are — both for potential and for growing, ironically, in spirit and in intelligence.

Do not dismiss the gift that your gender is.

You will find, as you contemplate all those people before you who loved you without knowing you, that their gender went a long way in bringing you forth at this time.

Yup. You are not just a creation of your Mom and Dad. You are a child of God first. You are the fulfillment of every father and mother that make up your DNA. They are your family, your blood. They are all love.

I have written this and posted it here because you are making family history – just as they all did.

And someday, perhaps when you are a grandmother yourself and maybe after you have ended your mortal journey there will be others you call grandchildren who may read these words.

They will love you for being you, too.

You see, we are forever a part of each other – backwards and forwards in time. That’s what love does, too.

Now, as your Grandpa, I could go on and on.

But I am hoping to have time with you soon to peer into your eyes, to learn your little personality, to see and enjoy your light.

In time I hope to get to know your life, your little smile, indeed the very important things in your heart.

As I do I will try to say to you all the things I feel about you, and I want you to know I feel them already, even though you’re not here yet.

I want to tell you about your Mom and your Dad. I want to tell you about your cousins and your aunts. I want to give to you what knowledge I have of our ancestors going back hundreds of years.

I want to share all this with you because it’s all love and it will help you.

I cannot tell you all. And that’s because half of your story is written by your Mother’s side and I don’t know those stories.

You are going to have to seek them out, both for you and for the sake of your children and grandchildren.

I know you can do that. I expect you to do that.

Is that right of me to do, to place any kind of expectation on you at all?

Yes, it is and it is done out of love. The world condemns the Patriarchy but I still believe in it. The patriarchy is what got you here and the patriarchy is what will take you home. Never forget that.

The role of patriarch is sacred to me on every level. I take it very seriously.

Your family, from every side, will protect you.

The more you get to know them here, and get to know their past as well as their present, will serve you. I promise that if you seek them out they will be there for you.

This is your Grandfather not giving you a command, you see. I’m giving you the wisdom of my experience. That is part of my patriarchal role and it is one I learned from my father and grandfathers.

Without knowing your family past you deny yourself a gift of love that may just prove the difference in surviving the evils of this world.

I know that sounds dramatic, but I swear to you it is true.

I want you as well to know God. You are His child. That makes Him family. Do you see how this works? Your heritage is endless, just as is your potential. You are part of something great. You are glorious.

Granddaughter, as the fireworks in the sky explode outside my window, I feel cause to celebrate.

But the fireworks are gone from that sky almost as fast as they brilliantly explode.

They are a thing of this world. As such, they are too temporary, too ordinary, and much too insufficient to convey what it is I’m celebrating.

Now, the fireworks more appropriate for you are in the same night sky.

They are the stars – the brilliant artwork of God that sings forth praises.

They did that for another Baby born years ago and they do that now for you.

You are like they are: glorious in every way and a beautiful expression of celebration.

Until I can gaze into your eyes, and see once again the wonder of what God our Father does in bringing forth both Spirit and flesh, I will look at the stars – here by myself – and think about you.

When I do that, I’m not alone.

Your Mother and your Father and your brothers will see you first in this life. They are your family. You’re going to love them all.

Grandma will be there too, looking upon you for us both.

We love you so much. That is the first thing we want you to know.

That is what we always want you to know.

Love,
Grandpa

The image here of my family is now ten years old.

I had no idea when we took this picture that it would come to represent the end of an era for my family.

The picture was taken the day our eldest daughter left for her mission. Sandy and I were 45 years old.

In the ten years since life has dramatically changed for us all. We should have better anticipated that.

But if you had asked me then to predict what ten years would bring in the lives of everyone in that picture I would have never been able to get close to what has actually has transpired.

Gone from our lives are a few dear ones we deeply miss. We now can claim three in-law children and four grandchildren (going on five) that we have added to our family in that time span.

The changes in 10 years are profound on a personal level, too.

Ten years ago I was a busy executive, traveling all over the west in a career that had blossomed. I was determined then to push on two work fronts to make money for the ever growing demands of my family. I was also absorbed with world events and engaged in the rocky politics of the time.

So very much of all that has changed.

I do not share many things on this site of my own family past and that of my children. But just because you do not see those things does not mean they are not there.

For many years now I have built pages, image and video libraries, and document repositories of my family that so far only I alone can see on this site.

I am building the record but not yet sharing it for many reasons.

We are still busy making our family history. For me to share my impressions nearly as fast as things happen would, I think, perhaps disrupt the natural flow of events.

It could draw unnecessary and unwanted attention. Some would take it all to be self-serving.

What we’re doing here is not a look-at-me social media thing of our day. What we are doing is attempting to comprehensively record the events and lessons of our 21st century lives.

This week, as I had the opportunity to peer into the face of my newest born grandson, Harvey, I could not help but wonder what he will think of those pages now hidden.

I will know Harvey and, if I’m lucky, I may be able to meet and know his children.

His grandchildren I likely will not know in this life.

It is for Harvey and his children and grandchildren that we make these efforts on the hidden pages. I want them to know and have access to all the family history I did not have growing up.

In the past decade I have found that the lines that separate the generations are more like curtains of fog.

We live largely the same lives. Events in our day today parallel the events in the lives of our ancestors.

Yes, we live in a different time but we can hardly claim to have many differences in our life experiences.

We are born, we marry and have children, we grow old and we die.

Sandwiched between those commonalities are the incredible details shaped mostly by our individual character and the events of the time in which we live. These become the stories that get passed down.

If my efforts in family history have taught me anything is that I find greatness in all of my ancestors – no matter who they were or where they were from.

Though they were normal in every sense, ordinary to those on the outside almost to the degree of tedium and mundane, they are in my eyes, after research, study and pondering, great to me in every sense of the word.

They are survivors, inventors, pioneers and change artists. They are explorers, dreamers and builders. They were rooted in faith, hard work and family. Especially family.

As I grow old and study their lives more I have come to feel that not only do I know their hearts but also I have come to recognize their faces and personalities.

This has happened only because they left enough of themselves behind for us to find.

I get frustrated by the lack of detail, by not knowing precisely their thoughts, impressions and feelings. I long for greater depth of understanding. I feel denied sometimes by stories lost or skimpily shared.

But the harder I work to glean the details the more I am humbled by what they come to mean to me in my mind.

What develops is yet another dimension of love within my human heart – one I never considered earlier in life.

They become a part of me like others, such as my wife, have become a part of me.

They take up a unique space and they give me the sense of something greater that I am a part of.

I dare not think that my life and myself as a person could ever be equated to those of my ancestors. I could not have done what they did.

But decades and generations from now I find the inescapable truth that who and what I am will be meaningful in some way to the families of my great grandchildren.

I will be their ancestor.

Just as my ancestors, I have learned, are part of me, I will be, as their ancestor, part of them.

That is a sobering thought. It is also a joyful thought.

Together, my ancestors and me and my great grandchildren, are writing an incredible, unique story as a family and as individuals.

What then is my part? What are my obligations? How do I contribute? How can I be a great ancestor?

To me it comes down to two things: truth and faith.

As I walk through cemeteries I do not see “Here lies a great farmer” or “He died a rich man” engraved on headstones.

If there are accomplishments or accolades to be shared in stone it is nearly always tied to roles of family – “Beloved Grandmother” or “Father”, for example.

Death has a way of focusing on the biggest and most important roles we have in this life.

That is because real truth focuses on what matters most.

I want my progeny to know the truth about me as their ancestor. The details of my career, my travels and even my worldly accomplishments matter very little.

Too often when we tell the stories of our ancestors we focus on these things. We do that because we lack the forethought, the emotions and the reactions of what was behind all those details.

In my mind, if my great grandchildren know the feelings of my heart they will understand the actions behind the details of my life.

I cannot help but wonder what it would be like to know the anguish of Gabriel Westover when he sent two of his children to the New World knowing he would never see them again.

What was on the mind of Jonah Westover after the Indian uprising in Simsbury and how did that change the course of his family’s experience?

What could have passed through the mind of Jonathan Westover as he gathered the orphaned children of his brother’s family after the series of tragedies that wiped out the Jonah Jr and Abigail Westover family in 1714?

What was behind all the restless wandering in the lives of Amos and Ruth Westover, who spent 20 years of their lives in transit from Massachusetts to Canada and then to Ohio?

Alexander and Electa Westover obviously knew each other and their respective families growing up. There’s a story there. What are the circumstances of their love story? We know how it ended but how did it all begin?

What went through the minds of both Edwin and Ann in February 1857? He was 33 and already married. What did he think about having a 2nd concurrent wife and raising a 2nd family? She was just 17 and fresh off the handcart pioneer trail. What was in her heart?

Perhaps the circumstances of their lives did not allow for recording such intimate details or maybe they just never thought it would be important for them to do so.

But I know clearly that these things will be important to my grandchildren reading the records I will leave behind.

Our modern age is creating a record of all of us. Family search in future generations will detail the grades we got in school, the resumes we sent online, the things we said on social media, the doctors we visited, the driving records we compiled, the addresses we had mail sent to and even the money we made and spent.

But even still none of those details will reveal who we are in heart and mind.

I know this and I can speak to it. I can tell my grandchildren what I feel, think and how I choose to react.

Faith is and always will be an important element in individual history.

My Grandma Begich was a faithful Catholic, just as her parents were. When she was a young girl her mother, it is said, was beheaded because she wore a symbol of her faith – a cross – around her neck. A few years later her father died and Grandmother’s grief as a ten year old was so intense she tried to throw herself into his grave.

Her faith clearly shaped and influenced her entire life experience. It led her to beg my grandfather to not participate in World War II.

Grandma’s faith also shaped the upbringing of her children and its influence endures to this day with her grandchildren and great grandchildren. I’m convinced we cannot know Grandma Begich without knowing her faith.

The same is true of my Mormon ancestors. Ann Findley only really had about a decade living with Edwin. The 17 year old handcart pioneer girl who became his polygamous wife never wavered in her faith as she endured the deaths in her family that would separate her from Edwin.

For another decade in her life Edwin would live but would not be present in the day to day life of Ann Findley Westover. She toiled in the support of her family and in the service of her church and community.

The last 50 years of her life were spent essentially as a single parent and grandparent who worked hard to serve those around her. That was part of her faith and to me it tells the story well of her character.

The faith of our ancestors fills in many of the details we long for from learning of their lives. Faith to them – and to us – is merely an extension of the truth that makes up our lives.

Ten years is a mere blip on the timeline of our family history. Much has changed since that photo above was taken.

I can speak what I felt through this blip in time. It may not matter to anyone now.

But perhaps later, it might.